The Man Behind the Suit
by IantojJackh
Summary: Set a week after Countrycide, Jack finally has a long overdue talk with Ianto. Written for hc bingo prompt job-related trauma.


**Author**: dalethechu-iantojjackh

**Title**: The Man Behind the Suit

**Summary**: Set a week after Countrycide, Jack finally has a long overdue talk with Ianto

**Rating**: T for sexual situations and foul language

**Pairing/Characters**: Jack/Ianto

**Word Count**: 5,976

**Warnings**: Angst, crappy childhood, being mean to colleagues

**Spoilers**: Cyberwoman & Countrycide

**Beta: **best-in-red

**Notes**: written for hc_bingo on lj wild card prompt: job-related trauma. This is Torchwood and therefore all part of the job. I know I might have taken some liberty with timelines, but needed to for this story to work.

* * *

**The Man Behind the Suit**

Two months had passed since Ianto returned to Torchwood Three after his four week suspension and a week since the team almost became victims of the cannibalistic village and the tension was thick enough to taste. The normally quiet man was even quieter than he had been before, only answering in one word sentences when ever possible.

Everyone had gone home for the night, and as usual Ianto was stuck cleaning up their messes. He swore since his return, Owen and Gwen were going out of their way to make his job and by extension, his life, as difficult as possible. That was all his life was now: this job. Ianto felt as if he had nothing else going for him. This job was now his penance for betraying those who put their trust in him and tonight's punishment was to clean up the mess Owen left after the autopsy of a weevil that met a messy end in a fight with an unknown assailant.

The mess was bad enough that Ianto had to remove his jacket, which now hung on the upper rails that surrounded the autopsy bay. Occasional movement from Jack's office drew Ianto's attention from the task at hand. Out of everyone, Jack's treatment stung the most. He refused to even look at Ianto or even utter one word to him. Any orders either came through someone else or by electronic means. Before the incident with Lisa, Jack was the only one who did not treat him as some glorified butler.

Ianto was almost finished cleaning when a hand grabbed his wrist. Knowing that only one other person was still in the hub did not stop the blue eyed Welshman from being startled. He looked at Jack's hand on his wrist and slowly shifted his gaze to his eyes. It was the first non-contempt look he had seen from any of his fellow Torchwood staff in a long while, the only exception being Toshiko.

"We need to talk," Jack said in his matter of fact way. His hand did not release its hold on Ianto's wrist just in case he tried to make a hasty exit.

"I don't believe either of us have anything to say, sir." Ianto refused to look at Jack in the face, scared to see if there was disappointment in his eyes.

"I've got plenty to say." replied Jack. And Ianto was going to listen whether he liked it or not.

"I'm rather busy, sir. Perhaps some other time," Ianto tried to wrench his hand free to no avail. He thought all that needed to be said had been said the night they killed Lisa.

"Drop the sir bit, Ianto. My office. Five minutes and don't think of not coming," Jack was tired of the silence even if he had played a role in it. Ianto was right when he said he cleaned up their shit and questioned when was the last time anyone asked him about his life. Reading a personnel file only gave limited insight into a person and Jack was going to dig beneath the surface to see what made Ianto Jones tick.

"Is that an order, sir?" Now Ianto was just being spiteful and made no attempt to hide the contempt.

"If you want it to be, then, yes, it is." Jack released Ianto's wrist and stood up. This was a far cry from the man who begged for a job and Jack sorely missed the Ianto he was then. The witty, sometimes sarcastic, banter. What he wouldn't give to see Ianto wear those jeans that he had on the first night they met.

Ianto waited until the last possible second to arrive at Jack's office and let out an annoyed sigh when the man was not there.

"And the attitude can go as well," Jack suddenly appeared behind Ianto, whispering the words against his ear. It was a test to see if Jack was right about his suspicions. When Ianto's back stiffened and there was a slight change in his breath, Jack knew he was right. "You want to hate me, but you can't," his lips barely brushed against the other man's ear. He waited for the complaint about harassing the staff.

"You are so full of yourself," Ianto replied scathingly. He tried to move, but every muscle in his body was frozen. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and shivers travelled down his spine. Ianto tried to convince himself that this was a side effect of the fifty-first century pheromones Jack liked to boast about, but he was not entirely convinced.

Jack chuckled, "That may be true, but you know I'm also right." Finally, he let Ianto have some of his personal space back.

Ianto visibly gulped and closed his eyes, hating himself for the thoughts of Jack wearing his coat and only his coat running through his head. He knew he should not be having these thoughts. He should be hating Captain Jack Harkness for killing his beloved Lisa, but his heart won out the battle with his head. The tension had been there since the beginning and some nights Ianto woke up in a cold sweat from a dream where he and Jack kissed,and did so much more, on that night in the warehouse when they caught Myfanwy. "Bloody coat." he muttered.

"Yes, blame my coat," Jack was amused by the random statement. "Just so you know, I always intended on giving you a job, but it was fun to watch you squirm and work for it. Plus, I could never resist a man who looked that **GOOD** in jeans."

"You bought me up here to comment on my arse in jeans? If that is all, I have to clean the mess Owen made." He knew Jack was up to something and Ianto was not in the mood for any Harkness games.

"I wasn't just talking about the back," Jack made no effort to hide the fact he was looking over every inch of the other man.

Ianto felt flustered as Jack had crossed several lines with his comment and lascivious look. His whole body turned a deep shade of red and was sure that any attempt to speak would come out as incoherent babble. The only option was for a quick retreat, but Ianto's feet refused to budge. "Stop looking at me like I am a piece of meat."

"The night is still young and I'm still hungry," Jack licked his lips in anticipation. His playful mood quickly turned to the serious. "Sit. Now," he pointed to the chair in front of his desk. Once Ianto complied, Jack moved between the chair and the desk. "I trusted you. More than anyone else here. I let you know things about me that I haven't shared with anyone else here and you never once told me about Lisa."

"You never asked. None of you ever asked." Ianto's voice cracked.

"I thought I didn't have to. I thought you trusted me enough to tell me. I should have seen how much you were hurting," Jack reached out to rub a small bit of weevil gunk off Ianto's cheek. Once he cleared off the dirt Jack's hand stilled, smiling as the lightly stubbled cheek started to lean into his hand.

"And see where your arrogance got you," Ianto took a defiant tone, refusing to let his heart win the fight now. When his head cleared from haze that Jack's touch caused, Ianto jerked his head away. "I never trusted you. I used you so I could have access to the hub to help Lisa." Ianto was sure Jack would be able to see through his lies, but hoped there was off chance that he did not.

"Really now?" Jack leaned forward, putting his hands on the arms of Ianto's chair. Ianto's personal space was gone again. "I don't believe you. Let me tell you what I think. When you've been around as long as I have, you tend to pick up on a few things. What I think is that you hate yourself right now. Hate yourself because every part of you is screaming that you should hate me, but right now you want to do nothing more than kiss me."

Ianto's pulse quickened and sweat started to glisten on his brow. Heat spread through his whole body. Jack had perfectly nailed the situation and it infuriated Ianto even more. "What do you want from me, Jack? For me to beg for forgiveness? That's not going to happen. I don't want or need your forgiveness." Tears threatened to fall as Ianto tried to make sense of his emotions. Things were never simple when Jack was involved.

"Ianto. Sweet Ianto," Jack reached for the other man's hands. "There is nothing to forgive. I've done things in my past I regret. I'll admit I was a bit petty toward you after it all, but I was hurt. I shouldn't have treated you that way and I'm sorry."

"You just treated me like everyone else did." Ianto pretended it did not bother him because he was going behind their backs, but it hurt a lot. If any of them bothered to notice maybe they would have seen what was going on. Then again, he managed to fool Jack.

"That is going to change. I'll make sure of it; tonight, however, is all about you. I want to get to know the man behind the suit better. I can't imagine how hard it was on you when you mother walked out when you were ten. I'm sorry you had to go through that," Jack knew it was a painful place to start. He chose something that was not in Ianto's personnel file, but something that took a little digging to find out.

"Where did you learn that?" That part of his life had always felt like a mark of shame and Ianto never told anyone about it. That his mother did not love them enough to stay and he was to blame.

"It doesn't matter. Tell me what happened," Jack ran a hand through Ianto's dark hair and lightly massaged the scalp, trying to put him at ease and to get him to open up.

Ianto bit his lip. He had never told this to anyone, but Jack was as good a person to tell as any. "It was a week after my tenth birthday and my dad had just broken my leg and my sister was arrested for shoplifting. Rhiannon and I were fighting and she pushed me into a full bathtub. Got my cast soaking wet and I started to scream like she was trying to kill me. My mum, fed up with everything, slapped me across the face and yelled at me to stop being big sissy queer. I hid outside all night and when I went home the next morning she was gone. For months after that my sister said it was my fault mum left." It was almost cathartic to finally tell someone else the truth. The reaction from Jack was not what Ianto expected; a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Ianto. I had no idea," Jack had not expected the story to be so horrid. He saw how it still haunted Ianto to this day. The Captain wanted to take the Welshman into his arms and make the pain disappear. And that is exactly what Jack did, pulling Ianto out of the chair. "I'm here now, and I'm not going to leave." First a tender kiss was placed against Ianto's temple and then Jack rested his face in the crook Ianto's neck, whispering encouraging words.

Ianto's first reaction was to pull away. He tried at first, but did not take long for Ianto to find himself enjoying being in Jack's embrace. It had been too long since someone had been there for him. The feel of Jack's breath on his neck never made him feel so alive before. It was as if every inch of his skin was ablaze with an intensity never felt before, and Ianto realized that Jack Harkness had him hook, line and sinker.

Jack thought it was time to make a move and separated himself from Ianto. His fingers carefully studied the other's face, a smile growing wider as Jack memorized the contours. It was a face he could get used to waking up next to. Too soon for those thoughts, Jack reminded himself.

"If you are going to kiss me just do it already," Ianto growled. His breath became more rapid the longer Jack's skillful fingers studied his face. The fingers were rough and soft at the same time and he wanted to experience those hands on other parts of his body. The rational part of Ianto's brain had been beaten into submission by the rest of him. This better be what Jack had on his mind or Torchwood would be down its tea boy.

Normally Jack would have taken a kiss without permission. What harm could one little kiss cause? But with Ianto he wanted-no-needed the permission. The ex-time agent was not sure what he felt for the sexy blue eyed man in front of him. Jack only knew it was different than anything before and it was why Ianto's betrayal hurt as much as it did. He had thought long and hard about the events of that night and knew it could have turned out differently if anyone stopped and asked instead of treating Ianto as the invisible man. Now was the time to make up for those times and treat Ianto like the amazing person he was.

At first the kiss was gentle, testing the waters through closed lips. It was only a matter of time before it became more heated. Jack reached behind himself and cleared off a section of his desk. He could hear Ianto scolding in his head about the mess. "I'll clean it later."

The kiss was broken only for a moment before the heavy make out session resumed. Jack backed up so he sat on the edge of the desk, pulling Ianto with him. It was time for the real fun to begin. There was lots of kissing and hands exploring places that they would dare to with other people around. It was not long before clothes started to be removed and tossed about the office.

During the heat of the moment, Jack popped several buttons off of Ianto's shirt and he heard the sound of displeasure from him. "Sorry about that." Jack moved on, making Ianto's neck his next target.

"No, you're not," Ianto's voice rose several octaves as Jack's tongue flicked over the sensitive flesh. "Oh," he moaned loudly. Ianto had to hold onto something as he felt his knees start to buckle.

"You're right. I'm not sorry," Jack said with a wry grin and pushed Ianto against the wall. Their lips met and transformed into an elaborate tango that only ended when both needed to come up for air.

There was a smug smirk on Ianto's face that made Jack a bit nervous. That was when his t-shirt was ripped by Ianto exploiting a small hole already present.

"Whoops," Ianto said, pretending he did not mean to rip the shirt. It was his turn to take charge and he pushed Jack against the desk, kissing him like it would be his last.

The battle for control waged on and made a mess of their clothes and the office. It was going to take much longer to clean up then it did to destroy. Finally, the heated pair took the action down to Jack's sleeping quarters beneath his office and that was when things got really wild. It was a good thing that the hub was empty or else the other members of team Torchwood would think someone was being tortured, but he was sure some of the guests in the vaults were getting an earful.

After several rounds of very erotic sex, Jack looked up at Ianto, who sat across his lap looking very sexy with his body glistening with sweat.

"It's true what they say about the quiet ones, isn't it?" His hands rubbed Ianto's legs and slowly made his way up his sides. The skin was so soft and Jack felt like he could touch it to the end of time. Jack spent several minutes watching his fingers brush back and forth against the curve of Ianto's back, his smile growing wider by the second.

"Careful, some might consider that kind of touching harassment, sir." Ianto said with a half smirk as his own hands massaged Jack's chest.

Jack could only laugh as he raised an eyebrow. "This coming from someone sitting naked on my lap and touching me like that. I think tonight goes beyond any and all kinds of harassment," he slid his hands down the younger man's back one last time before cupping his buttocks and flipping Ianto over so he was pinned beneath him.

Another hour later and another round of innovative experimenting, as Jack had dubbed it the second time in his office where their activities almost broken his desk, Jack watched as Ianto slept peacefully. His fingers lightly ran through the younger man's hair and a huge smile spread across his lips as Jack thought he could get used spending his nights like this. He could never really hate Ianto. Before tonight Ianto seemed in tune with his every need and after tonight that skill extended into bed. "Sweet and naughty dreams, sexy one." A quick kiss was placed on the sleeping man's forehead before Jack resumed watching the naked Welshman sleep.

The peace did not last long and soon Ianto started thrashing in his sleep and screaming as if he was being tortured.

"Ianto! Ianto! Wake up," Jack held Ianto's wrists to stop them from flailing. When calling out did not wake the sleeping Ianto, Jack started to shake him. First gently, and then harder until the Welshman finally snapped out of the violent slumber.

Ianto woke up with a start, his blue eyes darting around wildly, trying to figure out the unfamiliar surroundings. Sweat soaked him and the sheets. Still unaware of where he was, Ianto felt the hands confining him and pushed back. "Get off me." His breathing was ragged. The nightmare was always the same: reliving the Battle of Canary Wharf. One of twenty-seven survivors out of eight hundred and twenty three people. The only sound he heard was crash followed by some cursing. It took a minute for the disoriented man to gather his wits and realize what had happened. It only made the sick feeling in his stomach worse. "Shit, Jack. I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

Jack groaned and held the back of his head. It had hit one of the metal ladder rungs hard and a normal person would need stitches to close the wound. "I should be asking you that." Ignoring the pain and blood oozing from his head, Jack returned to the bed and rubbed Ianto's back.

"I'm fine," Ianto said gruffly. "Forgot where I was for a moment. Nothing more." That is when he saw the blood on the wall. "How bad is it?" Ianto examined the back of Jack's head and saw the blood but no wound. Confused did not begin to explain it. It was just like the first time they met. "How is that possible?"

"I'm a fast healer," Jack knew what Ianto was trying to do and he was not going to have any of it. "About that nightmare." And the attention was right back where Jack wanted.

"I don't know what you mean." There was the stubborn side of Ianto putting up the walls. He had already divulged his most painful childhood memory, but was not ready to retell what happened to him the horrible day in London. "Fast healing?" he said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Stop changing the subject. You were flailing and screaming and you're drenched too. That says nightmare to me. Is this something that happens often?" Jack was really concerned and he noticed the slight tremor in Ianto's hands that he tried to hide.

"I shouldn't have tried to hide it from you. The past couple nights I've been having dreams about that village. Evan and Helen cut me up and start to cook me. Then they fed me to you...all of you." It was a dark creepy story made up on the fly, but he figured it would satisfy Jack's curiosity. The truth was much darker and maybe one day he would open up to Jack about it. Another secret he kept; a darker part of his personality created the day his mother walked out on his family and one that had been allowed to flourish with all the horrendous events he had been a part of.

Jack frowned. He should have know something like this would have happened. Ianto was not used to going out in the field and he had been only seconds away from having his head cut off if Jack had not stopped them. The rest of the team were used to the danger that came from field work. "Come here," Jack tried to comfort him.

"I should be going," Ianto headed toward the ladder. "There is quite a mess up there that needs cleaning."

"Not so fast," Jack enjoyed the view of Ianto's backside with that wild grin of his. "The view is much better without clothes." He grasped Ianto's hips and pulled him off the ladder. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."

Ianto was taken aback by the comment. "I'm fine. What will the others think if they find that I stayed the night?"

Jack cocked his head. "That you fell asleep in the archives again."

The Welshman rolled his gorgeous blue eyes, gorgeous in Jack's statement, "And what about the state of your office?"

"It's none of their business," Jack shrugged indifferently.

Ianto sighed heavily as he tried to extract himself from his boss' grasp, but the man's lips against his neck made all thoughts foggy. "You might not care, but I don't need to give the others more of a reason to hate me than they already do."

"They don't hate you, Ianto. They just need time. You haven't exactly made an effort either. You keep to the archives or visitor's center until meal time and then you don't eat with the rest of us anymore." Jack rested his chin on the other man's shoulder and ran his hands up and down the stressed Ianto's arms. "Everyone misses you."

Ianto snorted in disbelief, "Did you see the mess Owen left me to clean? And I think Gwen purposely spilled her lunch over her desk for me to clean. They are worse than small children." Ianto's heart pounded as he felt himself slipping further under Jack's spell of fifty-first century pheromones. It felt nice to be wanted by someone even if it was someone he had conflicting emotions about.

"Leave it for them to clean in the morning. If they complain I will tell them you were acting on my orders not to clean up after them. I think I'll make them clean topless. It will be great character building."

"Sir, now that is harassment. Plus, I think Gwen will get the wrong idea. I cannot in good conscious leave the mess we made up there."

Jack smirked as Ianto's OCD tendencies rose to the surface. "If you clean it, it's only going to get messy again. Though the idea of watching you clean naked, maybe with one of those feather dusters. Oh, the things I can do to you."

The lecherous grin made Ianto groan and grow hard again. "You are a twisted man." This time there was no menace or hatred behind the words. "I should go home." The idea of leaving the hub a mess was gnawing at him, but with Jack around he knew the man would not let him clean.

"I'll join you." Jack did not care if there was an invitation hidden in Ianto's statement or not. He was inviting himself over.

Ianto just rolled his eyes, knowing Jack would do as he pleased. "But you are not making a mess of my flat or you will be the one cleaning naked with a feather duster and apron."

"I can't tell. Are you encouraging bad behaviour or not?"

"Oi," Ianto rolled his eyes and climbed the ladder, ignoring the cat calls from below. Now the small twinges of regret were seeping in as he was free from the effect of the pheromones or at least that was the excuse Ianto used to lessen the guilt. The fine line between love and hate had never been more blurred than it was at this moment.

"Great. Just great." Ianto picked up his clothes that were in no shape to be put on in their ripped state. How was he going to explain this damage to his tailor? The Welshman refused to go home naked. What would his neighbors think of their quiet, unassuming neighbor coming home in the middle of the night starkers? Not to mention trying to explain it to the police. Then again, it was easy to run down to the lockers to get a change of clothes, even if the only outfit he had there at the moment was the one that Ianto worked out in: a red zippered hoodie and black track suit bottoms. Ianto had made it halfway across the main hub floor when the cogs rolled back.

"Shit," Ianto tried to dive behind one of the desks before who ever was returning saw him and would have to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why he was streaking through the hub.

_It rained in the hub. This is Torchwood after all._

_I like to clean the hub naked. No._

_My clothes are invisible. No._

_Weevil guts got on my suit. Not quite._

_Naked hide and seek with Jack. Might give him ideas._

_Jack spanked me over his desk. Now I'm getting ideas._

"Ianto, are you okay down there?" Toshiko turned a bright shade of red, seeing the naked man try to hide. This was behaviour she expected out of Jack or Owen, but not Ianto. She tried to avoid her eyes when Ianto stood up and everything came into full view, but it was unable to.

"I...um...I can explain," Ianto stuttered, but was still in a state of shock to cover up.

"I...I...left my mobile," Tosh quickly swiped the small device from her desk. "Have a good evening, Ianto." The friends could not look at each other in the eye and the woman made a hasty retreat.

Once the cog doors closed, Ianto glared at a laughing Jack who looked too amused by what had unfolded. "Oi, stop staring." Now he ran full speed to the lockers to put some clothes on.

* * *

Ianto opened the door to his flat and let Jack in. "Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?" His face was still flushed from his encounter with Tosh.

"You look good in red," Jack flirted as he played with the zipper to Ianto's sweatshirt. "I could go for some coffee. I bet you keep the best stuff here."

"Very well. Just don't make a mess of the place while I'm gone," Ianto warned before heading to the kitchen.

Once the delicious aroma of brewing coffee started waft in from the kitchen, Jack made himself comfortable on the couch. He looked around, taking in sparse decor. It was very bachelor-pad looking, something he had not expected from Ianto. The only sort of decoration was a bronze picture frame with about ten people in the picture. "Torchwood outing?" Jack mused to himself. Everyone seemed so happy in the picture. It did not take long for him to pick Ianto and Lisa out, who were both very happy.

"Mickey?" Jack scrunched his forehead up in confusion.

"Excuse me?" Ianto returned holding two mugs of steaming coffee. He paled when he saw the frame in Jack's hand. It wasn't like the picture was hidden, but with the events of the evening, looking at the picture made the guilt come to the forefront again.

"I used to know Mickey. We traveled together for a while." Jack took one of the cups from Ianto and offered a flirty smile.

"His name wasn't Mickey. It was Samuel." Ianto growled and grabbed the frame hastily from Jack and placed it picture side down.  
"Just leave it be," the now angry man yelled, displacing his anger on a for-once-innocent Jack.

"I'm sorry," Jack said sincerely. He had no intention of purposely angering Ianto. It seemed that what ever warmth there had been between the two earlier was long gone.

Ianto knew he should not be mad, but he was. Pretty mad at that. A deep scowl set on his face and Ianto sat a chair far from Jack, pulling his knees to his chest. "I think you should leave after you are done." Ianto's voice cracked and his mug slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor as the realization of what he had done truly hit him. "This was wrong. All wrong. I'm just as bad as you now, aren't I? I fucked my boss. I'm a whore. God, what am I doing to my life?"

"Ianto," Jack was, for once, at a loss for words.

Ianto either did not hear Jack or chose to ignore him before he continued his rant, "Is this what Torchwood does to people? Destroy them so they have no choice but to stay until it kills you? You killed my girlfriend and yet I have these feelings for you. How fucked up am I? Why am I so bloody attracted to you? It disgusts me. It excites me. I can't make up my mind. I lied to you to give me this job. How can you not hate me? Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? I don't want to have these memories anymore. The painful screams, crying out for death's release. The smell of burning flesh. Climbing over dead bodies. I had to push a dead body off of me so I could get to Lisa. Why did I survive that? I should have just stayed there and let the flames overtake me. Every time I close my eyes I'm back at Canary Wharf. Why didn't you shoot me in the visitor's centre? They should should have let them make me their next meal. Why did you have to save the day like you always do? There were so many chances for me to die. Why couldn't it just happen?" By the end, Ianto had tears streaming down his face, which was bright red. "When will the pain stop?" Sobbing wracked his fragile body and soon Ianto began to hyperventilate. His chest felt like someone was squeezing and would not let go.

Jack did not realize Ianto had been in this much pain and he forgot that he was still only a kid at times. Everything the twenty-four year old had been through in the last eight months was more than most go through in a lifetime, and as he learned earlier, Ianto had a rough childhood too. It was as if the fates had it out for Ianto since birth, but Jack wanted to change that for him.

"The pain never really stops," Jack offered the truth. Most people would offer fake promises that the pain would eventually pass, but in the long run, lying would do more harm then telling the truth would.

"Ianto, look at me," he knelt in front of the hysterical man. "You need to calm down. Get your breathing under control. Breathe like this." Jack demonstrated how Ianto should breathe like he was blowing out a candle.

Ianto looked at Jack like he was insane, but he followed the suggestion. Between Jack's encouragement and the breathing technique, Ianto got his breathing under control. The exhausted man sighed and hid his face in his hands, embarrassed to have fallen apart in front of Jack, of all people.

"Let me get that." Jack picked up the shattered mug. "Why don't you get into bed and I'll bring you some warm milk. You have milk, right?"

Ianto nodded, "You don't need to do this. I'll be fine." the whispered words betrayed the truth.

"I don't think so." Jack countered. He doubted Ianto received any counseling after Canary Wharf, which was a big mistake. He should have seen it months ago, the second time they met when Ianto asked what he was supposed to do with the memories of the horrors he had seen, but he was too wrapped up in his disgust with One to think of toll it had had on the survivors. "Just get into bed, okay? I can make that an order. I know I don't need to, but I want to help." Jack pressed his lips to Ianto forehead.

Ianto was too exhausted to argue and deep down he was glad someone was finally offering him a helping hand after all this time. "Thank you, Jack," he said with complete honesty and a weary smile.

"Anything for you, Ianto." Jack watched as the other man disappeared into the bedroom.

By the time Jack had warmed up the milk and bought two mugs of the warm drink to the bedroom, Ianto was already fast asleep. A fond smile graced Jack's face as he watched the peaceful slumber. No matter what deception there was in the past, there was no more anger to be felt toward the young Welshman. There were only warm feelings now. Jack returned the mugs to the kitchen, shut off the lights in the flat and stripped down to boxers and his undershirt.

The immortal quietly climbed into bed and pulled the covers up around both of them. "I'll be here whenever you need me," Jack whispered, taking the sleeping Ianto into his arms. The grin grew on the Captain's face as Ianto instinctively snuggled in closer.

This became a ritual for the two. After everyone else left for the night, Jack and Ianto would head to Ianto's flat. Sometimes they would have dinner; take away or one of them cooking. Some nights they shaged to the sun came up, but every night they talked. Opening up to each other. It was great medicine for both their battered souls and it only deepened the bond they shared. Ianto trusted Jack in ways he hadn't trusted anyone in a long time. Jack created a comfort zone for him, a way to slowly but surely heal from the horrors he had been dealt throughout his life.

Jack, too, started to let his defensive walls down. Ianto was the first person he willingly told about his immortality and the atrocities he had seen and sometimes taken part of. Of course there was no mention of the Doctor.

The rest of the team was none the wiser about the relationship, even if Tosh almost caught the duo making out in the archives. Ianto was grateful she never bought up the whole naked in the hub incident. All they saw was Ianto finally opening up, becoming more social with the team and that his sarcasm beat out Owen's any day.

Then, Jack disappeared, and Ianto's life was shattered once more. He came back to life, kissed him in front of the team and then was gone. No note. No explanation. Just pain and questions. As Ianto learned early in life; nothing good lasts forever. Jack Harkness was just another reminder of that lesson.


End file.
